Never Done, Never Over
by Sevvy101
Summary: It kept happening. She was losing time. Not enough for it to be a concern, not really, but enough to run her blood cold. Her ability to suppress the healing process was growing stronger and stronger, the burns lasting longer and longer each time she came back to consciousness. (Season two compliant, Erica-centric, Stiles/Erica friendship with background Stiles/Derek)


_It kept happening._  
_She was losing time. Not enough for it to be a concern, not really, but enough to run her blood cold._

_Her ability to suppress the healing process was growing stronger and stronger, the burns lasting longer and longer each time she came back to consciousness._

::_  
_

Season two compliant, Erica-centric, Stiles/Erica friendship with background Stiles/Derek

There are some possible triggers re:self harm, see **end notes** if you're truly concerned. If you feel I should add more tags, please tell me.

::

Things did not change overnight for Erica after being bitten. She was handpicked by Derek Hale to be a part of his pack; somebody noticed her and accepted her for who she was, baggage and all. Her sudden makeover and newfound confidence were to be expected. Derek took care of her, asked her what she needed and what she wanted. He helped her adjust to the change and how to balance instinct versus reality.

Some of the things Derek taught her, she knew already. Or rather, the basic concept. She may not have known anything about werewolves and packs, but she did know how to recognize a trigger and how to cope with it. She was epileptic. It came with the territory. Medicine wasn't an answer for her seizures; it was merely a way to help her live with them. They did not make medications to help deal with the full moon.

Just as Erica was able to taste blood in her mouth before having an episode, she felt the rush to her head just before instinct took over. She felt something akin to a pin pricking the pad of her fingertips just before claws replaced her human nail beds. She felt a throb behind her eyes just before they flashed gold, felt an ache in her jaw just as her fangs started to protrude. In short, Erica picked up on the tiny changes that would otherwise go unnoticed if one did not know to look for them.

Derek Hale's interest in her was not the reason for her confidence. He may have sparked it, but she was quick on the uptake. The pride Derek showed when he saw how easily she fell into the role of beta sent her stomach fluttering and gave her a heady feeling. Erica could not recall the last time somebody was proud of her for something she had done. She had found her niche and somebody who understood her; she was going to revel in it for as long as she could.

::

It wasn't long before things went sour, but she did not regret her decision. She may have put herself in the line of fire, may have made herself an easy target, but she was more than willing to accept that danger than to ever think about going back to her old life. If she died, Erica knew there were people who would miss her, people who would mourn for her; knew that no matter what she did or said, she had a family to turn to. She knew her friends—her _pack_—would do anything to keep her safe just as they knew she would do the same for them. It was more than she had ever had.

Despite her ability to control her shift with barely a second thought, there were things from her old life Erica couldn't quite outrun. She had doctor appointments and specialists to see, medications to take and expectations to uphold. Her parents may not have said anything about her new wardrobe, but they would grow suspicious if she suddenly stopped attending her appointments and started acting like her seizures were a distant memory and not a blinding reality.

Erica knew her prescription medication had no effect on her anymore, but she wasn't quite sure what the withdrawal symptoms would do. Scott had asthma, but only used his inhaler when necessary. It wasn't part of his daily regimen. Derek wasn't of any help, just as Isaac and Boyd hadn't a clue. The lack of knowledge left Erica wishing Stiles had been bitten, if only to compare notes. Virtually everybody knew he took Adderall, knew that he abused it most days and Erica knew he would have had the same worries. (Months later, when Erica found out that Peter had offered Stiles the bite, she theorized why he would have said no. The obvious was to keep the Sheriff safe, but part of her wondered if he denied the bite because he wasn't sure what side effects he would be forced to deal with.)

Side effects from medical withdrawal weren't something to be taken lightly. Some people were affected differently, so you had to take everything with a grain of salt. Somebody on the same handful of pills for years could be hit differently than somebody who had only been taking the same cocktail for a few months. Some medications came with a greater risk and Erica worried.

Even if her parents paid her no mind when her pill bottles went unused, her doctor surely would. When she appeared perfectly fine, he would investigate the reasons why. He would force her to take multiple tests and demand answers to questions she could not explain away. Erica wanted none of that. She wanted to put her illness behind her and move on, to enjoy the second chance at life Derek had given her.

So when her next appointment came up, Erica tried to discuss with her doctor about stopping her medication. Tried to explain to him that she had gone long enough without an episode ("What do you call last month, in your gym class, then, Erica? Or are we ignoring that?"), had found herbal remedies on the internet sworn to work as well as any other antiepileptic medicine. He would not budge. Erica told him she was going to a different doctor and hadn't made contact with him since. As far as he knew, she was still taking a pill in the morning and a pill in the evening. He did not check in with her new doctor—a completely fabricated man whose number forwarded to Derek's cell phone—and it was as if she had never been a patient of his.

Erica explained to Derek how she had given his phone number to her doctor and while he may have stared at her curiously, he did not press for answers or question what she was doing. He trusted her as much as he did the rest of the pack, and while it was only a small-barely-even-counts thread of trust, Erica knew he had faith in her to make the right decision. She knew he had her back no matter the situation she found herself in and knowing that helped her more than any prescription ever could.

Erica went nearly an entire week without incident, deciding cutting her small pills into tinier halves and quarters would be too much of a hassle to titrate safely until the medicine was completely out of her system. She thought she had nothing to worry about. Figured the change had helped her in more ways than she had originally thought. Erica walked into school with a wider grin, head held high without a care for the people around her. Nothing could get her down at this point.

Erica was on cloud nine. The school could be on fire and she wouldn't care. So what if she was constantly quelling the urge to tear Allison Argent apart when she made some scathing remark, so what if she was (secretly) terrified of what Jackson was? So what if there were crazy hunters after their asses and _so what_ if Derek's "training program" was actual crap—_she did not have any side effects_. She wanted to scream it from the top of every mountain in Beacon Hills, wanted to blast it on the loud speaker through the halls of school, have it be written on every headline on every newspaper in the county ("_**Teenage Girl Beats Deadly Side-Effects Thanks to Lycanthropy**_").

::

Erica should have known everything would turn to complete and utter shit.

Her entire life she had been forced to deal with solutions that only worked temporarily, had to deal with the fact her life was never going to be positive so long as she was in it. She shouldn't have been fooled; she should have been more aware and conscientious before she got comfortable. Erica eased into her new skin and was reveling in it, was no longer tiptoeing around town waiting for the other shoe to drop.

::

The second Erica tasted blood she froze in shock.

_Not again_.

::

Everything seemed to fall apart in record-breaking time. She couldn't make sense of it, couldn't _think_. She didn't know how it happened, but one second she was falling to the ground, body frozen, and the next everything was white noise. It wasn't until she was blinking up at Stiles and looking over at Derek that she realized just what had happened. She felt so fucking stupid; her heart lurched when she saw how crestfallen and frustrated Derek looked. Like it was his fault he didn't know why she had been seizing. It was her fault Derek looked like that; her fault Stiles' heart was racing, her fault Scott had to fucking carry her to the train depot. She made them react this way and it was all because she didn't want to cut up a fucking pill into fourths. Derek had given her a _gift_, a new life, and she acted recklessly and screwed everything up.

Later, Erica would learn it was kanima's venom that had caused her to seize, but she didn't believe that. Not entirely. If it was just the venom, she should have only fallen into a paralysis. But it wasn't and she had, had a seizure and if Scott and the others wanted to attribute it to the kanima, let them, she was fine with that, but that wouldn't stop her from knowing the real reason.

As the last of the tremors faded and her arm began knitting itself back together Erica sat up, pushing herself off of Stiles' lap. The voices around her sounded distant as she regained her sense of self, her brain foggy, but one thing remained clear and that was that she had yet another seizure.

She cursed herself under her breath, vocalizing what her mind was had been screaming since realization dawned on her, "So fucking _stupid_."

Derek looked at her as he reentered the train car after talking with Scott, the fearful glint no longer in his eyes. He only looked worried (_You happy? Look at his face—look at it! That's your fault. Your own fault for being a goddamned narcissistic asshole_). Stiles' brow wrinkled in confusion, voicing what Derek was presumably thinking, "You couldn't stop the venom from affecting you, Erica."

"You don't get it." She insisted. Derek's eyes narrowed, watching her carefully.

"Then explain it."

Erica forced herself to look away from Stiles and to face her Alpha. She held back a whimper in the back of throat (_Don't you fucking cry, it's your fault he's disappointed in you. Face it, you're a failure. Always have been, always will be_). "I stopped taking my medicine."

"What does that mean?"

Stiles looked from Erica to Derek and back to Erica before realization dawned on him. He muttered under his breath, "Side effects."

Derek tilted his head in Stiles' direction, waiting for him to continue. Without glancing at Derek, Stiles kept his eyes locked with Erica's. "What were you taking?"

"Lamictal," she forced herself to say.

"Jesus, Erica, really? And what, you just stopped cold turkey?"

"I was doing fine! I didn't need them, and nothing changed when I stopped."

"You're smarter than that." Stiles pointed out.

"Clearly I'm not." She grumbled under her breath, drawing in a deep breathe to calm herself down. The tips of her fingers were itching and she focused hard on keeping herself from shifting (_Can't even keep control, can you? You're just a scared little girl, trying to play in the big leagues when you should have stopped at T-ball_).

"What is the hell are the two of you talking about? Erica?" Derek's eyes sharpened, focusing in on his beta.

"Remember what I asked you about when you first changed me?" She paused, waiting for Derek to nod, "I figured I'd see how things went on my own. I didn't have anyone else to ask."

"So you decided to put yourself at risk." Derek's voice was even when he spoke, waiting for her to continue.

"I didn't think anything would happen and if something _did_, I assumed the healing would kick in."

"Erica," Stiles cut in, "C'mon, you know what kind of shit can happen when you stop taking your meds. How long were you on it?"

"Almost two years," Erica muttered, knowing full well Derek could hear her but hoping that Stiles wouldn't catch what she said. He had moved himself to one of the seats, lounging against the side of the train car. She fidgeted from where she stood, hands wringing together before she forced herself to stop and focus.

Derek, someone who had never had to deal with medications much less know what they did, asked Stiles, "How do you know what this drug does?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Its more like which medication don't I know anything about. I don't sleep. I have access to google and forums. Are you really that surprised?" He looked back at Erica.

"I was stupid, okay? I get it. I was stupid and wasn't thinking and clearly I don't know half as much as you do," She glared down at Stiles, her voice terse.

Stiles continued to stare at her pointedly while she focused on a spot just past his head, refusing to meet either of their eyes. She blinked hard (_You really gonna cry now? Gonna run away? Gonna see what happens next, gonna lock yourself away so the next time you have an episode nobody's there to help you? Do it, I fucking dare you. You aren't good for shit, Princess. Get it through your head; you're just a big fucking loser. Stop living in your dream world and face the music_).

When she heard the intake of breath from her side, knowing Derek was about to say something, she cut him off from saying anything, "I get it, okay. I'm sorry. Forget any of this happened. Just—just forget it." She made a move to walk out of the train car when Derek stopped her, his hand digging into her shoulder from where he grabbed her.

He flashed his eyes at her, not making a move until she let the tension ease out of her shoulders, body slumping all at once. Erica looked at Derek, eyes pleading what she was trying to say, whispering under her breath another apology before shrugging out of Derek's grip and leaving before he could stop her again. It wasn't until she was back outside that she let herself breathe, taking a shaky breath while blinking hard. She made it this far and she was not going to have a breakdown. She was _better_ now—faster, quicker, stronger. Clearly not smarter or else she wouldn't have gotten herself into this mess. If she had taken a second to think things through she would have realized how flawed her plan was.

::

Erica was halfway home when she felt her phone buzz, not even realizing she had it. She noted a text from Boyd asking where she was (_Even he's sick of your shit, how many times can you ditch a guy before he moves on?_) and a second from Stiles. She had been expecting something from Derek, not him. She shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh when she read what he had to say.

"youre not stupid"

"fuck you, what do you know" She was about to pocket her phone when she felt it vibrate in her hand.

"ikno enough. ive been on and off enough drugs ok"

"how many stimulants are there? pretty sure ive got you beat"

"shutup. tomorrow, coffee, we're getting it. be there or ill burn your leather coat and feed it to some stray dogs out of the kindness of my 3"

She couldn't help it, she laughed out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. Honestly, she had no idea what to make of Stiles. That part of him, the part where you never knew just what to expect from him, was what caught her eye back in middle school. Erica figured if anyone understand, he would, and here he was trying to prove just that. When Erica glanced down at her phone again (a second message from Stiles when she didn't reply, "im taking your lack of response as a 'see you there and im paying because youre so great and smart and where would i be without your superior wit' answer. jsyk."), she saw a second text, this one from Derek.

After taking a deep breath, bracing herself, she opened his message. "_We're not done with this conversation. You're not to ignore me. Especially around Stiles. His sarcasm is going to put me in an early grave and that better not be your intention._" Erica couldn't help it; she caught herself mid chuckle. How Derek managed to be both intimidating and brotherly in less than hundred-sixty characters, she didn't know.

::

She debated on not showing. Where did Stiles get the idea that he could tell her where to go, what to do and just how to do it? He had no business prying into her life. She couldn't stop frowning at her reflection in her bedroom mirror.

Erica was debating on curling her hair. It was just coffee with Stiles, but _it was just coffee with Stiles_. She was very interested in Boyd but Stiles was her first crush and that's not something that ever really goes away. So, yes, she had the flutter in her stomach because she wanted to please him, but a whole other part of her was disgusted with how she was acting.

(_He doesn't like you, idiot. He doesn't even care. He just wants to handle you so he can get into Derek's pants. Can't do that when the Alpha is distracted by your ignorant ass._)

She shook her head. Standing up, Erica switched her sweats for a pair of jeans. She shrugged on her jacket and applied a layer of lipstick before pulling her hair into a low ponytail. It wasn't like she was trying to impress Stiles (_Liar_), but she wasn't going to go back to her old habits. People turned heads when she walked down the halls, walked around town. The thrill of knowing why they were looking gave Erica a rush she couldn't help but indulge in.

Her phone rang out from where it sat on her dresser and she frowned, looking at who was calling her. With a roll of her eyes, she answered, "What, Stiles?"

"Where are you?"

"Antarctica."

"I'd believe that if I wasn't sitting outside your house and saw you standing in front of your mirror."

"Stiles!"

"What? Derek does it!"

"He's the Alpha, Stiles." He was insufferable.

"Yes, yes, yes, I know that. Now get your ass down here so we can get our coffee on."

"You're like a child at Disneyland."

"Wouldn't know what that's like! Now get a move on before I come up there and drag you out myself."

Without another word, he hung up. Taking a steadying breath, Erica looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She had this. She was a fierce, confident, beautiful woman who wasn't going to let some hyperactive, persistent boy boss her around. She already had one man in her life that did that; she didn't need a second.

Stiles let out a cheer when he saw Erica walk out of her house, smiling at her. "Get a move on, the world waits for nobody." Erica rolled her eyes but followed him to his jeep nonetheless.

She had never been in the jeep before. Or, not that she remembered. Erica figured she was probably in there when Stiles and Scott were taking her to Derek yesterday but she couldn't exactly recall that, and she didn't particularly want to, so for all intents and purposes she had never ridden in Stiles car.

"So," Stiles turned to look at her when they hit a red light. "How are you?"

"I'm peachy, now drive."

"What's with all you werewolves? '_Drive me here, Stiles_', '_Drive faster, Stiles_', '_I'll rip your throat out with my teeth, Stiles_'." He shook his head, "You guys are all the same."

Erica glared. "I'm not the one who drove over and demanded we go get coffee."

"Now you're just placing blame where it doesn't even belong." He shook his head before shifting gears and moving. "Any preferences to where we go?"

"Considering I'm paying? How kind of you to ask me."

"I'm the sweetest, I know."

She rolled her eyes. "Go to the diner up at fifth and market, they've got good pie."

"Dude." Stiles turned to face her in amazement, "I know they have the best pie, I didn't know you knew they had the best pie." He paused. "We should have our wolfy get togethers over there as we plot to take down Jackson. Nothing eases tension like a good ole' slice of pecan pie."

Erica laughed, "I don't know how your mind works some days."

"You're jealous, don't lie to me."

"You couldn't tell even if I was."

"Why do you have to be like that? Is there, like, a Werewolf 101 handbook Derek hands out after you get turned? _Chapter One: How to Pick the Best Leather Jacket to Accentuate Your Superior Stalking Skills_. _Chapter Two: How to Cause Unnecessary Harm to the Town Human (re: Stiles Stilinski)_. _Chapter Three: How to Lie Like a Professional Blackjack Player_. I want a copy."

"Sorry to disappoint, but it doesn't exist."

"Why? There's a bestiary! Why can't we have our own version?"

Erica watched Stiles carefully, "Because we're not stupid enough to right down all of our secrets for anyone to find and read."

"Aka, Derek has intense trust issues that even you can't break through so you're just gonna sit back and watch rather than get your head bitten off."

"Same thing."

"Exactly."

"You're annoying."

"You love me anyway."

"Yeah, probably."

"Nobody can resist The Stiles!"

"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend."

"Rude. You can take your sass and get out of my jeep if you're gonna be like that."

"You're the one who made me get in your jeep! Just park so we can get our coffee and leave."

"Lame. Don't go rushing our bonding time. I'll start to think you don't like me if you continue to be like that."

"Wouldn't want you getting that idea, now would we?"

Stiles pushed her shoulder, smiling, "Get out! Get out of my jeep, you heinous fiend!" He jumped out, standing with his arms crossed, waiting impatiently for Erica to get a move on.

Erica couldn't stop herself from laughing when she jumped out of his car, shrugging past him and heading inside the diner. Stiles sputtered after her, crying out about how rude she was and how she was never going to win _Miss Teenage Werewolf_ with an attitude like that.

"Pretty sure there are no other applicants, so I win by default, don't I?"

"Cheat."

"How is it cheating if I'm telling the truth?"

"Because I said so." He turned away from Erica to smile at the hostess, "Two, please."

The woman smiled with a shake of her head, "Cut the act, Stiles. Take your lady friend and follow after me." From behind the woman, Erica raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

He shrugged, not saying anything until they were seated with menus sitting in front of them. "Her daughter used to babysit me."

"Uh huh." Erica watched him carefully before nodding. "Anything about your life I don't know?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "You'd be surprised, Erica." Before she could say anything, their waiter came over to take their order before leaving just as quickly to fetch them their coffee.

"Should I be concerned we both take our coffees the same way?"

"No, only the coolest of the cool drown their coffee in cream and sugar. It's obviously the drink of champions. Don't be ridiculous."

Erica smiled behind her mug as she took a sip. "You're ridiculous."

"You love me." (_He's lying to you_)

"I cannot with you, right now."

"Can you ever?" (_No, but you have liked playing pretend since you were a little girl_)

"Probably not." They each drank their coffee in silence for a few moments before Erica couldn't take the quiet for much longer. The longer they went without talking, the louder the voice inside her head got and she really did not need that. Not now. (_Really think you can outrun me? You're going crazy, face it_) "Honestly, what are we doing? Why did you force me to grab some coffee with you?"

"I didn't force you to do anything, first off." He looked up from his mug to lock eyes with Erica. "And secondly, you're drowning in a shit load of self destruction and I don't exactly like seeing my friends flounder like that."

"Friends?"

"What would you prefer to be called?"

"I don't know, I just didn't think you would say friend. Something about knocking you unconscious and throwing you into a dumpster leaves me thinking otherwise."

"That's just water under the bridge. We all make mistakes. Some are just worse than others."

"Are you talking about Jackson with that one?"

"More like Derek. He still doesn't think I trust him after I kept his body afloat for two hours. Two hours, Erica. Do you know how heavy Derek is? How about when he's complete and utter deadweight? He's insane and I don't know what you see in him."

Erica stared at him curiously, "He's my Alpha, Stiles. I don't know how many times I need to say that you. It doesn't matter what I think about his personality, it doesn't work like that. It's hard to explain."

"One of these days the '_I'm the Alpha_' and '_He's my Alpha_' excuses are gonna stop working. You might want to work on some new catchphrases."

"Don't you know? That's _Chapter Four: Catchphrases and How to Get Them to Stick_."

"Was that a joke? Did you just tell me a joke, catwoman?"

"I don't know, you tell me, since you're the pack comedian."

"So I'm pack, huh?"

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"I don't know, maybe because Derek thinks Scott is my Alpha? That he's a man of his own pack? Pretty sure I don't have a choice in any of this."

"You always have a choice, Stiles."

"Right. Let's cut the philosophical bullcrap and get down to business." They were interrupted briefly for a refill on their coffee before Stiles started back up. "I'm not leaving until we're done, just so you know."

"Then stop delaying and get a move on."

"So testy. Did you get that from _Chapter Five:_ _How to be a Snarky Asshole and Not Get Shit For It_?"

"No, but I'm sure you could mail the publisher and ask for an amendment."

"How were we not friends sooner?"

"Because you ignored me and pretended I didn't exist for the last five years or so." She frowned.

"For the record, I didn't even know who you were back then."

"Exactly my point. You were too enamored with Lydia to even look at anyone else. I'm surprised you had time for Scott."

"I don't have an answer to that."

"I didn't expect you to."

"Do you feel that way about everyone?"

"I don't know, sometimes? Most days, probably, yeah." She paused, "Are you seriously shrinking me right now?"

"What? I've had enough meetings with the school's guidance counselors. I picked up on some things."

"Uh huh."

"When you make that face you look like Derek."

"Thanks?"

"I don't think it was a compliment."

"Thought not."

Stiles took a long drink from his mug before talking again. "So how much do you hate yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

(_He's playing you. He's only asking so he can have something to hold over your head later. He said it himself: he's not pack. You don't trust anyone who is not pack_)

"I don't see why it's important."

"Erica!" His exclamation drew some looks from the other patrons around them but he paused before talking, more quiet this time. "You cannot pull that bullshit with me. I see straight through it, don't you get that? I don't know why no one has called you out on it before today, but screw you if you think I'm just gonna let this drop."

(_You're his pet project. Not his friend. He just wants something to fix to feel better about himself_)

"I'm not going to be your charity case."

He made a frustrated sort of groan in the back of his throat before leaning across the table, glaring at Erica. "Get it through your pretty little head that I'm not doing this out of obligation. I'm doing it because I care, Erica."

"Why should I believe you?"

He threw himself against the back of his seat before slumping down. "I don't know what I need to do or say to get you to believe me, but I'm not gonna lie to you," (_Lie_), "I'm not gonna take whatever you say and spread it around school," (_Lie_), "I don't know what kind of guy you think I am, but I'm not like that." (_Lie, lie, lie lie lie_)

"I don't believe you."

"Of course you don't." Stiles frowned.

Moments passed before either teen said a word. Erica refused to be the first one to break the silence (_Baby. You're a big fat baby. Grow some balls and take some initiative_) and Stiles just sat there brooding (_Reminds you of Derek, doesn't it? Wonder how much time they've been spending together. He's not even a wolf and Derek cares more for him than he does for you_).

"What do you know about me?" Stiles' question caught Erica off guard. She put her cup of coffee down on the table, watching him carefully. She shrugged, Stiles sighing. "Thought so."

"Why?"

"You don't think I can be anything but an asshole to you. You really don't know me."

"And you don't know me."

"Then tell me about yourself!"

"No."

"Erica, we're talking ourselves in circles. Nothing is going to come out of this if one of us doesn't give a little and it's your turn."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm not the one who went off her meds cold turkey without telling anybody!"

Erica's eyes widened. "Don't say that."

"Why? Because it's the truth? Because it was one of the most stupid decisions you've ever made in your life?"

(_Told you he was a liar_)

"You told me I wasn't stupid."

"You're not, but Erica, your actions? Not exactly your brightest moment, by far."

"I didn't have anyone to talk to about this! How was I supposed to know it would back fire?"

"You've been on meds for practically your whole life, right? This shit is drilled into your mind. You're not some ignorant kid who doesn't know the risks between taking a handful of drugs and the prescribed amount. You know the risks. You know them just as well as you know how to breathe, right?" (_Don't answer that_) "My point exactly."

"Stiles, you're not a wolf, you don't get it." Erica slumped down in her seat, redoing her ponytail to have something to do with her hands. Fidgeting wouldn't help her case whatsoever. She mumbled under her breath, "I wished you were a wolf, for the record."

"What? Erica, repeat that."

"When I was first changed, when no one in the pack could help me, I wished you had been turned. It's selfish, I know that, but I honestly did not care. I knew that, out of everybody, you were the only one who would be facing the same problems. The only one who I could discuss this shit with and actually know what I was talking about."

"Then why the hell didn't you come talk to me?"

"Because you're not a wolf! Don't you get it? Everything is different now."

"Pretty sure it's not. Yeah, you get pretty testy during the full moon but out of everybody, I know you have the best control. You're still you, under all that makeup and leather."

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I don't _want_ you to say anything. I want you to talk to me, to at least tell me the truth."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Why the hell not? It's not that hard, Erica. You open your mouth and you let words come out. It's really not that bad, look, I'm doing it right now! See how easy it is?"

(_He's patronizing you. Are you really going to stand for this_?)

"I don't have to take this from you."

(_That's my girl_)

"You're right, you don't. But you're still here, what does that make you?"

(_A dumbass_)

"A stupid bitch who lacks basic self-preservation skills."

"You're not stupid, Erica. I'm getting sick of having to tell you that."

"Then don't say it."

"If I don't, who else will?" Her face was blank. "I don't know how many times I have to say this, but I'm not just screwing with you. It sucks, trust me, I know that."

"Why are you being so persistent with this?" It dawned on her that she really did not know anything about Stiles. When she was crushing on him, she wasn't like how he was with Lydia. She didn't know every minute detail about his life and it was only now that she was wondering if she should have tried harder to learn more.

"Because nobody was with me!" Stiles stared wide-eyed at Erica, mouth hanging open in disbelief. He hadn't meant to say that, but there it was. Out in the open, put on the table for discussion.

"What does that mean, Stiles?"

"Forget about it." He tensed up, fidgeting as he curled in on himself. His fingers tapped along the side of his mug while he looked around the diner, refusing to face Erica.

"You can't say that. You cannot do that after you just spent the last ten minutes telling me to talk to you, to trust you. I'm not going to let you pull this sort of double standard bullshit." Erica turned to her side, grabbing her bag and digging through it for her wallet. When Stiles saw her pulling out some bills, he reached over and grabbed her hand. Erica's eyes flew to his in alarm before narrowing. "Let go of me."

"Don't, don't leave yet, okay? Just, give me a moment, okay? I wasn't exactly planning on saying that."

"I can see that." Her voice was even.

"Let's start over." Stiles reached his hand out for shake and Erica merely stared at it in confusion.

"What the hell—"

"I'm Stiles Stilinski, sophomore and your average kid. Except for the My-Dad-is-Practically-an-Alcoholic, My-Mom's-Death-Was-Probably-No-Definitely-My-Fault, Adderall-is-My-Crutch and My-Best-Friend-is-a-Werewolf-and-its-My-Fault stuff. But we don't talk about that."

Silence fell upon the two before Erica reached over and took his hand, "Erica Reyes, sophomore and your average girl with an absent mother and father. If you ignore the epilepsy, lycanthropy, and an over abundance of self-loathing, at least."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Stiles smiled wide at Erica, shaking her hand.

::

"You really don't screw around, do you?" Erica quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Not really, but don't go telling people that. It'll hurt my image."

"Right. Because you have an image to uphold."

"Excuse you, but where would everybody be if it wasn't for my reckless, sarcastic self? No where, thank you."

"You're pretty sure of that, aren't you?"

"Damn right, I am. Now stop evading my questions and answer."

"What was it, again?"

"How many medications have you been on and what for?"

"Jesus," Erica closed her eyes as she leaned back in her seat. "This is gonna take me a minute or ten to remember."

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." Stiles looked around for their waiter before grabbing his attention to come over and refill their mugs. He looked up from where he was pouring sugar into his cup when Erica took a deep breath and sat back up.

"I want to say I've tried five anti-epileptic drugs, for, obviously, the seizures before the last one. I think that's right. There was a time when they had me on a mix of anti-anxiety and anti-depressants but that didn't work out which led them to think I had a personality disorder before realizing I was only acting that way due to the handful of meds they already had me on. The worse part to all of it was that when I knew a med wasn't working, and that it wasn't going to, they wouldn't take my word for it and still forced me to titrate up and then wait a month or two to see how things turned out after I had a steady dose in my bloodstream. I was like their guinea pig and my parents didn't care. They paid the bills and left it at that.

"Don't even ask me how many hospitals I've been in and out of, because I lost track of that back in middle school."

Stiles nodded, surprising Erica when he barely batted an eyelash at her confession. Something about him nagged her, made her want to push him until he spilled every last secret he had inside that head of his. He didn't freak out when Scott was turned, as far as she was aware of, either. Was there anything he reacted to? Genuinely?

"Your turn," Stiles reminded her.

"Right, okay." She took a sip from her cup of coffee before setting it back down on the table. "When were you diagnosed with ADHD?"

"Good one. Just after my mom died, they put me on Wellbutrin, which is apparently used to treat a plethora of other shit besides depression. I don't know why they didn't start with some kind of SSRI but whatever; the drug did its job. By the time I hit seventh grade I was weaned off of it. While on the med, I was more focused. We just figured it was because I was no longer choking on every breath I took, that I wasn't drowning in a '_Sea of sadness_', as my doc liked to call it. I think he thought I liked the metaphors since I was still considered a kid, but they were just stupid." He shrugged.

"After the drug was completely out of my system, some things reverted to how they were before. We just hadn't noticed them until after mom died. They gave me a couple tests and I don't know what the results were, except the obvious. So they started me on a form of Ritalin before figuring Adderall was a better choice. They probably could have kept me on Wellbutrin, since it worked well enough, but what do I know, I don't have a PhD."

"Shit, Stiles."

He shrugged, "It's not a big deal, you know that. It's mostly trial and error with these guys because despite what they say, they really don't know what the hell is going on in your head. At least with my shit you can figure which neurotransmitter is doing what, but its not that easy with epilepsy, is it?"

"I guess not. How do you keep yourself so calm and unfazed with all the stuff that's been going on this year?"

"No, no, no! It's my turn to ask the questions. Wait your turn." He smiled at her jokingly. Erica merely rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"Tell me about your parents."

"There isn't much to say about them."

"Humor me."

"I already told you how my dad was an Insurance Investigator yesterday, so there's that. He works pretty long hours between our county and one over. Mom's a Real Estate Agent but she usually travels to wherever business is good, whether its in town or a two-hour commute away.

"So they work long hours. Whose parents don't, am I right?"

"You can say that again."

"My life really isn't all that bad, I guess."

(_You just like to whine and complain and beg for attention_).

"Doesn't mean its great, though. You can't really pick how and why you react to shit the way you do."

Erica watched Stiles for a moment before smirking, "Great segway into my question."

"I try my best." He matched her expression.

"So, you know what I want to know. How the hell have you gone through all of this without having a massive freak out or questioning any of it? You just accept it as fact and barely bat an eyelash."

"It's a special talent of mine, obviously." At Erica's unamused look Stiles sighed, "Yeah, no, I know.

"I don't know, Erica. Fucking with my med schedule obviously isn't all that helpful. It's easier to just accept things at face value than to try and figure out the _why_. I'll research the shit out of the _how_ so I can understand what the hell we're dealing with, but why things went down the way they did? I don't really care about it. Takes too much effort: physically and emotionally."

"I feel like there's more there that you're not telling me."

"I can neither confirm or deny that," Stiles grinned. "Now, who's ready for some pie?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Erica returned his smile before looking around for their waiter, more than ready to indulge in some of that delicious apple pie the diner was notorious for. Their talk was pushed to the backburner for the rest of the afternoon, but they had opened up to one another, something Erica never saw her doing with him. Then again, was there anybody she had ever actually shared her secrets with?

::

"How was your coffee date with Stiles?" Erica turned around, startled by Derek's voice.

"It wasn't a date." She readjusted her school bag before pocketing her house keys.

"Look at me, Erica." Derek's voice was sharp and demanding.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was a near whimper and it made her wince.

(_He could say jump and you'd just ask how high. Sickening_)

"Do you even know what you're saying sorry for?" At Erica's silence Derek sighed, walking down the drive to where his Camaro was parked. "Just get in the car, Erica."

She frowned, watching him from where she stood, "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to school, what do you think?" He got in, rolling down the passenger side window, "You're going to be late, get in."

Derek's actions may have caught her by surprise, but Erica did as he asked. Once she was in, Derek started the engine and pulled away from her house. "I'm going to ask again, how was your coffee _outing_ with Stiles?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Erica asked, staring outside the window pointedly. So what if she sounded like a petulant child? She didn't want to talk to him.

"I tried to, and he said to talk to you."

(_More proof that he talks to Stiles more than he ever will with you. What does that make you? The pack bitch?_)

Erica whipped around, eyes narrowing in on Derek, "Why did you ask him in the first place?"

"Answer me, Erica."

"Why? You won't answer my questions."

"I'm your Alpha, Erica," Despite Derek's glare Erica couldn't stop herself from laughing, remembering the conversation she shared with Stiles.

He sighed, face falling, "Just talk to me. You know that's what I'm here for, right?"

"You mean when you're not throwing us against train cars as a form of training?"

(_Sassy. Finally, some improvement._)

"I have to make sure you guys are prepared and I don't have a lot of time to do it. You know that. All of you know that." Derek glanced at her before focusing on the road as they took a sharp turn.

"Doesn't make it okay." She huffed, turning back to the window. "Stiles and I just have a lot in common, okay?"

"Somehow, I actually believe that." Derek looked at Erica. "Will you ever talk to me about this?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, honestly not having a clear answer for him. She was barely able to talk to Stiles, and even then it was only after an hour or two of constant pestering.

"Maybe we should have a pack bonding night," Derek mumbled under his breath despite knowing Erica would catch every word of it.

She bit back a grin, "That sounds like fun. Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"Stiles," Derek grumbled, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "He said something about a diner and its amazing pie."

Nothing could have stopped Erica from bursting into laughter, grin wider than ever before. Derek looked at her in alarm, confusion radiating from him. "You have no idea, do you?"

"About what?" Derek asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Erica choked on another giggle or two when she replied, smiling at Derek just as he pulled up to the school.

His grip on her wrist kept her from jumping out of the car, "I mean it, Erica. There isn't anything you shouldn't be able to come talk to me about."

"Got it, Derek. I'll remember that for the future."

::

"So what are we doing? Playing yahtzee? Monopoly?"

Stiles jumped, slamming against his locker in his haste to look at Erica. "Fragile human here! No leering or silent stalking!"

She raised an eyebrow in question, "Derek said something about a pack bonding night."

"I may have suggested a thing or two to Derek. I wasn't sure if he was even listening, to be honest." Stiles shrugged.

"He's always listening, even when his life is literally being held in your hands." Erica pointed out.

"I don't know, he just came into my house and sat all dejected and sad on my couch. It was distracting, him not doing or saying anything."

"And?"

"I may or may not have suggested he go eat a nice slice of pie at the diner we went to, to cheer his depressing werewolf ass up. He only glared at me, which was an improvement from all the glowering he was giving my floor, but it still sucked. I suggested we watch some Disney movies or play the game of LIFE, anything to get his mood up and his ass out of my house. The pack might have come up somewhere in there."

"You're nauseating, Stiles."

"Why? This could be good for you guys!"

"Except for the part where he's breathing down my neck, hurt that I didn't come talk to him." Erica crossed her arms, "I blame you for that one."

"I don't know what you want me to say, but I'm not going to apologize for having a good time with you. Or for giving Derek some pointers."

"It was coffee, Stiles. I don't know what you said to Derek, but that's not what I signed up for."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Derek's got his head shoved up his ass. At least give the bonding thing a chance, it might actually prove to be fun."

"Between Boyd, Isaac, Derek and me? I'm sure it'll be a riot."

"Your sarcasm is inspiring."

"Quit obsessing. I'm serious."

"And I'm sure you are, but I'm not gonna back down from this. None of you guys talk past the occasional _grr_ and _rawrrr_ which totally do not count." He paused when the bell rang out around them, "Look, if it doesn't work out, I give you permission to rip my throat out, teeth optional."

"This conversation isn't done, Stiles!" Erica called down the hallway after Stiles had begun walking towards his class.

"Yes it is!" He yelled back, not caring to look over his shoulder when he shouted.

::

"Is he serious?" Isaac turned to look at Boyd.

"I think so." Boyd turned to look at Erica.

"A hundred percent." Erica looked over at Stiles. "Right?"

"Yep." Stiles nodded.

"How did he even get this game?" Isaac asked.

"I don't know." Boyd responded.

"Not a clue." Erica added.

"I may or may not have had a hand in this."

"Why?" Isaac and Boyd both turned from where they were all staring, breaking the confused trance they had all fallen into. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he wouldn't leave me alone! Again! And my dad was on his way home. Again." Stiles frowned. "I had to do something."

"But _Dirty Minds_? Really?" Isaac was glaring by this point.

"Where did you even find a game like this?" Boyd questioned.

"I think it's pretty interesting, actually. Good choice." Erica winked at Stiles.

"It was on sale and he was glaring at me and I didn't know what else to do. Don't blame me. He paid for it!"

"Still your fault." Isaac commented.

"Agreed." Boyd nodded.

"It'll be fun. And hilarious. You boys are gonna have such a good time." Erica nudged Isaac's side.

"He's your Alpha too, you know," Isaac grumbled.

"And this is my cue to leave," Stiles turned to exit the train depot before Erica grabbed his elbow.

"Oh no, you're staying here for this. You are the cause of this entire mess in the first place, anyway. It's only fair."

"I hate your logic."

"Most people do, now stop frowning and get Derek so we can get this night done and over with."

"Right, okay, because the human without any super senses whatsoever is going to be able to locate Derek when we have no idea where he even went." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I went to get snacks," Derek's voice rang out from where he stood, having entered the building. He was frowning. "Do you guys really not want to play? Stiles said it'd be fun." He glared at the boy in question.

"Hey! It's not my fault! If I told you jumping off a bridge was fun, would you do it?" Stiles held up his hands.

"No, but I'd push you off of it." Derek walked past Stiles and handed Boyd two bags filled with chips and soda. "Get everything set up, I'll be back." Without a word, Isaac and Boyd got to work. Erica rolled her eyes before joining in, her laughter breaking the silence in the building when she opened the game.

Stiles followed Derek into the train car, "It's not that bad, dude."

"You lied to me," Derek turned around, glaring. "Are you trying to make me look like an actual idiot to my own pack?"

"No, but you're probably looking more human to them now."

"I'm a werewolf, Stiles, in case you forgot. Or do you want a demonstration?" He bared his teeth.

"Not what I meant, Derek. You're only, what, six or seven years older than us? It's pretty easy to forget that when you walk around like there's a stick up your ass. At least now you aren't coming off like some holy deity on a pedestal. This is good for you guys, but whatever. I'm out."

"You're not going anywhere."

"What was that?"

"This was your idea. Get back out there and help get this game—if you can even call it that—started."

"Mixed signals dude, serious mixed signals coming from you." Stiles shook his head but did what Derek asked.

Erica raised an eyebrow when Stiles came over and sat on the ground next to her. "What's up?"

"I don't know how you put up with him."

Isaac laughed, ripping open a bag of chips, "You learn."

::

"How the hell did you win at this?"

"How the hell did you _lose_ at this?"

"Just goes to show what we all really have on our minds." Erica threw in, laughing when Derek and Stiles turned to glare at her. "I'm just saying."

"You didn't do so hot, yourself." Stiles pointed out.

Erica shrugged, "Never said I did."

"I don't know whether to be proud or hurt by that comment." Stiles shook his head. "I call for a rematch."

"Don't be a sore loser, Stiles." Derek grinned, sharing a bag of Doritos with Boyd.

"Don't be such a douchey winner, Derek." Stiles stuck his tongue out in retaliation, reaching forward and taking the bag out of Derek's hands.

"Dude, not cool." Boyd chastised, taking the bag back as soon as Stiles' hand was out of it. "Take your crap elsewhere."

"Where? To the creepy train car that's covered in somebody's—probably Derek's—blood or to the creepy dark corner where I'm pretty sure I saw a raccoon staring me down earlier?"

"He's a nice guy, don't be like that." Isaac smirked over the top of his cup.

"Why am I not surprised that you're friends with whatever it is." Stiles grumbled.

"So are we playing a second round or not?" Erica asked, grinning at the boys around her.

"If you're prepared to get your ass kicked, sure thing."

"I doubt I'll be losing to you, Stiles. That raccoon over there could probably beat you."

"Rude! Don't hate me for being a teenage boy!"

"How is that an excuse? Boyd and Isaac are your age, too."

"They're werewolves, doesn't count."

"Stop it, both of you." Derek would have looked intimidating with the glare he was pointing at both Erica and Stiles, but the cheese-covered fingers he was licking clean destroyed that image quickly.

"Fine, fine, don't pull out the Alpha card, we all get it." Stiles grumbled in exasperation before glancing over at Erica, sharing a look with her. She was barely able to contain the laugh at his look, much less the stare the other boys were giving them.

::

Erica didn't know how it happened, but in less than a week a couple of things in their pack changed. Derek wasn't as belligerent in his training methods, taking the time to reassure each one of his wolves when they did something well. Erica still hadn't spoken to her Alpha and she could see how it hung like a heavy weight on his mind. Every so often he'd get a look on his face, or linger back when it was just the two of them, trying to give her the opportunity to say something, but she never budged.

When she thought about it, Erica didn't really know why she was keeping things from Derek, but at the same time she had zero desire to open up to him. She was sure he'd understand a lot of the things, but nowhere near as well as Stiles had. They both had baggage, her and Derek, but they were two completely opposite scenarios and Erica couldn't help but feel guilty when she compared her pain to Derek's. Compared to him, she had the perfect life and that made her feel like shit.

(_Ain't that the damned truth._)

Erica cursed. She hadn't heard the nagging, insistent noise in the back of her head all week.

(_Told you not to get too comfortable, sunshine. I'm a part of you; so long as you're alive, I'm here_)

She wasn't doing this. She couldn't. For the first time in a long time, even after the bite, Erica was feeling alive and normal. She was hanging out with friends, laughing, having fun, getting along, all while keeping up with her schoolwork. She was safe.

(_No, you aren't_)

Erica shook her head, her curls shaking with the movement. She had to get out of the house. Had to go somewhere.

(_I already told you, I'm everywhere you go_)

That couldn't be true, she told herself. It couldn't be. If she went a week without whatever this was, she could go another. And another. And then another, another, and another until she was normal; really, she could do it. She had to.

(_You're never going to be normal, Princess. You're a werewolf_)

That didn't make a difference, though. Boyd was normal. He was.

(_You don't actually believe that, do you? You know nothing about him. Nothing about anybody because _you're_ a nobody and why would anybody waste time with that?_)

Stop.

(_Can't. Already told you._)

Erica took a deep breath, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyelids. This wasn't happening. It wasn't. Things were finally falling into place and she was okay.

(_Liar, liar pants on fire. Huh. Wonder how Derek would feel about that. Finding your burned, charred body_)

Erica's eyes flickered over to the lighter on her dresser before she had to physically shake herself. She wasn't thinking properly. She had friends! She had a life! She was somebody and there was no reason for her to go back to old habits. Nothing from the old her was worth keeping. None of it.

(_But remember how good it felt? The feeling of the flame licking at your skin? Knowing how close you were to actual damage but being able to control it? Ever wonder about what would happen if you went just a step further? You know your dad keeps some lighter fluid in the garage_)

Erica dug her nail into her palms, ignoring the itch growing beneath her skin. At this point she had no idea if it was because of the shift or a need to get out of her skin. Everything around her was loud, amplified, white noise surrounding her and she couldn't think straight. Couldn't say a word. She took a step towards her dresser when she felt a vibration in her back pocket. Pulling her phone out, Erica sucked in a much-needed breath of air; it was a message from Stiles.

"little pig little pig let me in!"

(_Pig? And this is your friend? This new life of yours is laughable; you really think its better than before? A flame can't insult you like people can_)

"?"

"oh cmon just lemme in"

"no"

"why? doing something more important?"

Erica's eyes flickered once again to her (_trusty, handy, never let you down before_) lighter before looking back down at her phone. She breathed in deep.

"fine doors unlocked"

"why didnt i think of that goddamnt k"

(_Imagine he came in without knocking. Without warning. And saw you; saw you on the floor, fixated on the fire you controlled, the flame you were enamored with. What do you think he would say to that, huh? You don't have friends. They're an illusion_)

No, Erica told herself, this is an illusion; you're an illusion.

(_Keep telling yourself that, sweetie_.)

"Erica?"

The sound of Stiles' voice made her jump, spinning around to face the boy in question. "Yeah?"

"You okay?" Worry was etched into his brow.

"Yeah, totally, why would you ask?" The smile Erica gave him was capital-f Fake but she hoped he didn't call her on it. (_Hope isn't worth shit_)

"Uh-huh," He nodded slowly, "Right, well, there's a Star Wars marathon going on right now. Was wondering if you wanted to watch it with me."

"You came all the way over here to ask me that?"

"Yep." (_He's just using you, can't you see that? He was bored. He didn't actually want to spend time with you_)

"Scott with Allison?" Erica rolled her eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He winked.

"I'll be right down, go turn it on. Popcorn's in the kitchen."

"You got it!" And with that, Stiles was out of her room just as quick as he had entered it. From where she stood, Erica could hear him banging around her kitchen, starting the microwave and turning the TV on. Before leaving the room, Erica reached over and grabbed her old lighter, the plastic burning the inside of her palm as memories flooded her mind, and opened up the top drawer to her dresser, throwing it to the back. Out of sight, out of mind.

(_Keep telling yourself that_)

"You coming?" Stiles' voice carried throughout the house.

"Yeah!" Erica called out before taking the stairs two at a time, smiling as she sat next to Stiles, reaching a hand into the bag and stealing a handful of popcorn. "We starting on episode four or one?"

"Four. The real beginning." Erica nodded her head solemnly at Stiles' serious expression.

::

"You know, you're like the yoda of the pack." Erica commented offhandedly.

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed, startling Erica as he twisted in his seat to look at her, "I said the same thing to Scott ages ago. Finally! Somebody else sees it."

"Duh. I thought it was obvious?" Erica questioned.

"Clearly not."

"Our friends are idiots."

"You're telling me." Stiles shook his head, "How did we ever get stuck with them?"

"Ask myself that every day."

::

"So what were you doing before I got here? You looked pretty deep in your head when I came in." Stiles asked as the credits for _Return of the Jedi_ rolled.

"Nothing really." Erica shrugged.

"You sure about that?" Stiles' questioning eyes followed her as Erica walked into the kitchen, throwing another bag of popcorn into the microwave.

She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, "Yeah, I'm sure."

Stiles stood up, following after her and pulling a coke out of the fridge. Throwing one to Erica before grabbing a second for himself, Stiles leaned against the door handle, "You know I don't believe you."

"Yeah."

"And you know I'm gonna pester the shit out of you until you tell me, right?"

"No you won't." Erica smirked.

Stiles paused. "You're probably right, but let me have my moment."

She rolled her eyes just as the microwave beeped, "Never. Now let's go, we're already missing the beginning to _The Phantom Menace_."

"Can't have that, now can we?" Stiles laughed.

::

"So what's up between you and Derek?"

Stiles nearly choked on his coke, barely managing to croak out an exclamatory cry, "What?"

"Don't give me that. You know exactly what I mean."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Stiles sat up straight, his focus fixed on the TV screen.

"Your pulse just jumped."

"That is so creepy you don't even know." Stiles turned to glare at Erica before frowning at her expression. "Shut up, I'm not talking about it."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your eyebrows totally did, though!"

"That's _Chapter Six: Your Eyebrows and You_."

"Of course it is." Stiles rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the couch. "I'm serious though, there's nothing there."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm serious!" Stiles paused, eyes flickering over at Erica before jumping back to the screen. "Unless you know something?"

"Nothing, but you two are more obvious than Anakin up there."

"I don't believe you." Erica shrugged in response.

"Fine. But I'm just saying, make a move and he won't shoot you down."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, "What do you know?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. Think he would answer a text?" Stiles chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, fingers taping restlessly on the back of the TV remote.

"I don't know, were you planning on sending something to him right now?"

"I don't know. What would I even say?" Stiles' eyes began to look panicked.

"Like I know!" Erica rolled her eyes.

"This is so stupid."

"But you like him so its totally worth it," Erica winked causing Stiles to wince.

"Yeah, it really is."

"I was being sarcastic but seriously, get your phone out."

::

"I can't believe you sent that!" Erica exclaimed.

"You told me to!" Stiles fired right back.

"I was being sarcastic! Since when do you do what I tell you to do?"

"I don't know, since he's your Alpha and you know more about him than I do?"

"Actually think you've got me beat on that one, but whatever, point is—"

"Point is, why the hell did you let me send that?"

"Don't blame me!" Erica argued just as Stiles' phone vibrated on the coffee table in front of them. They both stopped and leaned forward, looking at the screen. "What does it say?"

"I don't know! I don't know!" Stiles grabbed his phone, hands shaking as he frantically typed in his password. "Swear to god, he kills me, and I'm leaving a note blaming you."

"Just open the message, Stiles!" Erica growled.

With a deep breath, Stiles looked down at his phone. "Oh my god," he choked out.

"What? What! Let me see!" Erica reached over, grabbing his phone out of his hands. Her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh my _god_!"

"This is your fault!" Stiles cried out.

"Stop blaming me!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not my fault—oh my god, he sent another message, _look_."

"What?" Stiles questioned, grabbing his phone back. "He's going to kill me. It's final. I'm going to die."

"Quite the melodrama. You've got to reply."

"What the hell do I say to this?" Stiles waved his phone in Erica's face.

"Don't ask me!"

"You're supposed to be helping me, damnit, Erica."

"Because I've got all the relationship experience in the world, right."

"Stop being mean, I'm serious." Stiles pouted.

"I know, I know. I don't know!" Erica frowned. "But you have to reply or he's going to think it's a joke or something. You know how he gets."

"Don't I know it," Stiles mumbled with a huff. "I hate you, for the record."

"I'm sure you do." Erica leaned back, watching the movie in silence while Stiles typed out a message to Derek before backspacing and trying again. And again. And a couple more times after that, but Erica wasn't saying anything.

(_You know they're gonna get too wrapped up in each other to pay you any attention anymore_)

Erica squeezed her eyes shut. This was not happening.

(_You helped it all happen, too. Trying so hard to be a good friend when all its gonna do is leave you alone_)

I have Boyd and Isaac, Erica rationalized to herself.

(_Boyd isn't going to stick around once he learns how far gone you really are, and Isaac? He'll just turn to Scott_)

Lies, Erica told herself, digging her nails into her thighs. She chanced a glance at Stiles but he hadn't notice anything was up, biting on his lower lip while glaring down at his phone, still trying to come up with a response for Derek.

(_You helped create that. This. Remember that_.)

"Erica," Stiles' whine broke through her thoughts, making Erica jump. The action didn't go by unnoticed, however, and his brow furrowed, "You okay?"

"Right as rain." She replied hastily, "So what did you wind up sending?"

"It's so stupid, but, okay, look," Stiles tossed his phone in Erica's lap before grabbing hold of the popcorn and angrily munching down on a fistful of kernels.

::

"So, you and Stiles, huh?" Erica asked Derek the following night. Boyd and Isaac hadn't shown up to the train depot yet so it was just the two of them.

"Shut up," Derek retorted without missing a beat.

"Oh c'mon!" Erica quickened her steps so she could walk right next to him. "Tell me what you guys talked about. He refused to show me the messages."

"How many _did_ you see?" Derek asked, pausing to look at Erica with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders innocently, "I don't know, what wasn't I supposed to see?"

"You're impossible."

(_Hah! Told you. Even your Alpha can't stand you_)

"You don't mean that." Erica frowned, any hint of humor absent from her voice. The change startled Derek and he glanced at her in concern. "Whatever. Ignore that. Back to you and Stiles—"

"What about you and who?" Isaac's voice rang out from the door. "Please tell me I didn't hear that right."

Erica smiled brightly, "Oh, you did! Our Alpha is gonna be getting some!"

"Erica!" Derek chastised her, eyes ablaze.

"You know I'm joking, jeeze." Erica grumbled, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

"You're to respect me, Erica." Derek frowned.

"Yeah, yeah, you're the Alpha, I know." She rolled her eyes anyway when all Derek did was sigh in turn.

"Where's Boyd?" Derek asked, looking at the two.

"Right here, sorry," Boyd's voice carried with him as he joined Erica and Isaac from where they stood opposite Derek.

"Let's get started, then," Derek smiled a toothy, near-feral grin at the three, eyes flashing.

::

"So," Erica sat opposite Stiles in the cafeteria.

"So?" Stiles asked, sandwich raised to his mouth. He took a bite, chewing it carefully before looking back at Erica.

"So?"

"So," Stiles swallowed, glancing around the room before leaning across the table, smiling. "We were up all night texting."

"Yeah?" Erica asked, smirking.

"Yeah." His reply was a near sigh causing Erica to wince.

"Oh, gross, don't tell me you're gonna turn into Scott."

"Why's Stiles gonna be turning into me?" Scott asked as he threw his bag down on the table, taking a seat beside Stiles. "Everything okay, dude?"

"Hundred percent fine, don't worry." Stiles glared at Erica in between bites before nodding reassuringly at Scott.

Scott frowned, looking at Erica, "What isn't he telling me?"

"Scott!" Stiles gaped at his best friend, "What the hell? Trust me, everything's okay."

"You haven't been online as much, I got concerned." Scott shrugged.

"Well, that's my cue to leave, talk later?" Erica asked with a raised eyebrow, stepping back and picking her books back up.

"Yeah, sure, I'll text you." Stiles nodded as Scott got up and moved to sit opposite Stiles at Erica's departure, questioning him again after a moment's pause.

(_Look at the two of them_)

Erica stopped walking just as she hit the door.

(_C'mon, turn around_)

Erica couldn't stop herself; she turned, eyes looking back at the two friends. Her hands shook as she fought for control, fought to catch herself from these involuntary actions.

(_Look at them! You don't have that. That friendship. Never have, never will_)

Erica shook her head. The pack was coming together and she and Stiles were friends. Weren't they?

(_Why would he be friends with you when he has that? You two will never be as close as him and Scott_)

Erica squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the movie marathons, the meals at the diner they had been having more and more frequently. She mattered; she had to.

(_You know he only hung out with you to get closer to Derek_)

Not true, Erica told herself, bringing her hands up to clench at either side of her head, fingers tugging at her hair.

(_Look at them! You two are never that carefree, are you?_)

Erica looked at the pair begrudgingly, taking in the easy conversation they shared, their laughter filling the space around them. They had that, Erica told herself, her and Stiles. They spent the entire afternoon cracking up over the weekend. They did, she knows it.

(_What, before he asked for your help with Derek? He's using you_)

Erica shook her head. He wasn't. He couldn't be.

(_Face the facts! It's clear as day_)

The tugs at her hair became stronger as Erica walked backwards, the doors of the cafeteria giving under her weight. She didn't stop walking until her back collided with a bank of lockers opposite the door, didn't open her eyes until she had her breathing under control. She brought her hands down, rubbing at her eyes before slowly blinking them open. Frowning, she glared at the people around her, at all of the eyes staring. It wasn't fair. None of this was.

(_You're just a freak. Always have been, always will be. When will you get that?_)

But she wasn't, Erica told herself, walking down the hallway on shaky legs. She was strong. She had a pack. She had supernatural abilities. Nothing could stop her.

(_Sure about that?_)

::

"Is everything okay with Erica?" Scott asked after stealing a chip from Stiles' bag.

"Yeah, what do you mean?"

"I don't know, you two have just been spending a lot of time together." Scott chewed thoughtfully.

"I thought you wanted to know what Derek was planning?"

"And that's why you've been hanging out with them?"

"What are you trying to say, Scott?" Stiles' eyes narrowed in on his best friend.

"You know what I mean, I'm just worried. I don't want anything bad to happen or whatever. Remember when she knocked you unconscious?"

"Water under the bridge," Stiles remarked offhandedly, smiling as he recalled the first time him and Erica got coffee. "Seriously, they're not bad people."

"You sure?" Scott asked, stealing another chip.

"Completely, now stop stealing my food, you ass." Stiles batted at Scott's hands, laughing when he tried to steal the entire bag anyway.

::

"I have a question."

"Shoot," Stiles didn't look up from the game he was playing on his phone.

"Has Erica said anything to you?" The concern in Derek's voice caught Stiles off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"You two have been hanging out a lot, right?" Derek looked down at his hands with a frown adorning his features.

"I guess so, why?" Stiles closed out of the app, sitting up straight from where he was lounging on his bed. Derek was sitting opposite of him, leaning forward in his desk chair.

"She still hasn't spoken to me."

"What about?"

"Everything, with the medicine and everything after she seized in the library."

Stiles shrugged, "We don't talk too much about that, not since it happened. She's probably embarrassed, you know?"

Derek sighed, "I guess; I'm just worried."

Stiles smiled at Derek, patting the space on the bed next to him, "C'mon over here, big guy." Derek looked up, startled, but moved from the chair to sit side by side with Stiles.

"Yeah?" Derek asked.

"You're doing a good job," Stiles bumped his shoulder against Derek's.

"What do you mean?"

"At being an Alpha. Just because she's not coming to talk to you, doesn't mean anything, you know that, right?"

"She should be able to come to me for everything—"

"Did you go to your mom for everything, growing up?" At the mention of his family, Derek paused up for a second.

"No," He spoke carefully, "I went to Peter, a lot of the time."

Stiles shook his head, "And doesn't that explain a lot."

"What?" Derek turned to look at him, confusion etched into his brow.

"Nothing, forget I said anything, but that's my point. You didn't go to your mom for everything."

"That's because she was my _mom_."

"But she was your Alpha, right?"

Derek sighed, looking forward, "I see what you're saying, okay?"

"Good." Stiles smiled, leaning more of his weight against Derek.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"What're you doing?"

"Trying to cuddle with you, now shut up." Derek gave no protest, moving his arm to wrap it around Stiles' shoulder as they leaned into each other. He was still worried, but he trusted Stiles' opinion on the matter.

::

Erica stood in front of Stiles' door, hand poised to knock but she remained frozen.

(_They're talking about you_)

Erica closed her eyes, brought her hand down. Of course Derek was here. He wasn't at the depot when she went by there, which was the reason for why she was seeking out Stiles instead. She should have known, though.

(_Still think they care about you, now?_)

Derek was expressing concern for her, Erica told herself. He was concerned. He wasn't regretting turning her, her presence.

(_You sure about that?_)

Yes. Erica was sure about that. Deciding she had heard enough, Erica shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and left. She had homework to do, anyway. She could wait.

::

"What can I do you for?" Stiles looked at Boyd, smile on his face as the other boy sat down across from him at lunch.

"Have you spoken to Erica lately?"

Stiles looked at Boyd quizzically, "Everyone seems to be asking me that lately, why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Boyd glared down at the table before looking back up, "She just hasn't been around lately."

Stiles frowned, "Was she in class earlier?"

"Yeah, but she just looked really out of it."

"So I'm not the only one seeing it," Stiles thought aloud.

"What do you mean?" Boyd's eyes narrowed.

"I thought it was just me, I don't know, but every so often she gets this look on her face, you know? Doesn't say anything and shrugs off whatever you say about it, but it still happens."

"Exactly." Boyd's shoulders slumped. "I just wish she would talk to me."

"I'll see what I can do, okay?" Stiles offered, gathering his things together.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find her. I've got a free period after this one anyway. I'll let her know you were looking for her, too."

"Thanks, Stiles." Boyd sat back, "You're not all that bad, you know."

Stiles smiled, "Likewise, my man. Likewise."

::

Erica stood in front of the mirror in the girl's locker room; the only sound in the room her own heavy breathing as she struggled to keep herself in line. She looked down from her reflection to her clenched fists, looking at the lighter glasped in her grip before sucking in a breath and looking back up at her reflection.

She didn't remember how she got it. How it got out of her dresser and into her school bag. Couldn't remember how she got here, got to the girl's locker room when she was supposed to be talking to her English teacher about the paper due next week. Was supposed to exchange notes with Boyd after. Told Isaac she'd tell him what he missed on the latest episode of _The Walking Dead_. She wasn't supposed to be here, not now. Not with this.

Worse part, she thought with a bitter laugh, was that she didn't care. The voice hadn't said anything to her for a couple of days now and she was so sure that she was free. Thought without a shadow of a doubt that she was sane. Normal. She got through the full moon perfectly fine. Hadn't had any problems with her control, although that wasn't a problem she ever really had to begin with. But right now, looking at her own reflection, Erica watched as her eyes flashed yellow back at herself. Felt her fangs extend from her gums, smiling wide to take a look at herself.

She flicked the top of the lighter, watching with fixated interest on the flame, watching it disappear and reappear. Watching it move with the air in the room. Erica brought up her other hand, closing two of her fingers on the flame. Smirking at the rush of pain. Just as quickly as she felt it, it was gone. No marks were on her fingers.

With a frown, Erica flicked the lighter once again, closing her finger down on the heat this time. She winced at the sudden burst of pain that shot through her hand before watching the blister start to form only to disappear just as quickly. Her frown deepened; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Where was the proof, the physical description showing what she was doing to herself? That was part of the fun, wasn't it? Watching her body shift and morph before her very eyes. For the first time since receiving the bite, Erica regretted the decision. There had to be a way to slow the healing process, right? Focus on it? She could do that.

With a flick of her finger, Erica narrowed her eyes on the flame. Took a deep breath. Exhaled. Deep breath. Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Attention focused, Erica brought the flame to the back of her palm. She smiled at the pain, smile growing wider as she watched her skin become inflamed, the angry red a stark contrast from the rest of her creamy, smooth hand. As the blister began to form, Erica choked out a laugh. She did it. She actually did it.

(_That's my girl_)

Erica stopped cold. Dropped the lighter. The sound it made, clattering to the ground, went unheard as her eyes focused back on her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were panicked. The pain from her hand intensified as it went unnoticed. The disruption shattered Erica's focused and by the time she was able to move, no longer shocked still, her hand had already gone and healed itself.

She expected something, anything, some sort of biting remark as the disappointment she felt for losing focus flooded her system, but nothing came.

Her mind was empty.

Wiping at her eyes—when had she begun to tear up? —Erica bent down and picked up her lighter. She threw it in the trashcan by the door, glancing at her reflection one more time before making her way out of the room.

Nothing happened.

She was fine. She was normal.

And if she heard the ghost of a laugh in the back of her mind, Erica paid it no mind.

::

"Erica! Hey!"

"Erica?"

A touch on her arm made Erica jump and whip around, eyes flashing briefly. Stiles stared back at her, eyebrows raised in alarm. "Hey," she mumbled, looking away.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Stiles stopped, grabbing a hold of Erica's arm to make her pause with him. "Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"Bullshit. I don't need special powers or senses to know that was a complete lie, so what the hell, Erica? I thought we were past that."

Erica laughed bitterly, rolling her eyes, "Keep telling yourself that if it'll help you sleep better at night. I'm fine, now let me go." Still, Stiles didn't let up on his grip.

"Just tell me what's wrong, Erica."

"Nothing's wrong!" Erica glared, ignoring the itch in her fingertips as she brought a hand up to grab hold of Stiles', forcing him to let her go.

"Erica," Stiles' voice grew quiet, his tone sobering up.

"What?" Her annoyance was near palpable as Erica spoke.

"I know something's up." The clear, no-questioning tone Stiles adopted made Erica freeze up for a near second before cooling her expression back into one of indifference. "You never lose control. Never. Clawed fingers? Fine, I'll take it, but the way you jumped when I touched you? Not normal."

Erica sighed, shoulders falling, "Just let it go, okay, Stiles? Please?"

Stiles watched her carefully before drawing in a quick breath, "Fine. But only because I have Harris next; this conversation isn't over." Erica nodded. "By the way, Boyd was looking for you."

Erica looked up, startled, but Stiles shrugged, "He's worried about you. We all are."

"Don't be." Erica's voice was firm but as Stiles walked away, she looked down at her shaking hands. She was fine.

(_Liar_)

::

It kept happening.

Erica didn't know how, not after she threw out her lighter the first time it happened, but it kept happening. She was losing time. Not enough for it to be a concern, not really, but enough to run her blood cold.

Her ability to suppress the healing process was growing stronger and stronger, the burns lasting longer and longer each time she came back to consciousness.

She was putting away some clean clothes one night when she opened up the top drawer of her dresser only to find three new lighters staring back up at her. Part of some value pack, she was sure, but she had no idea how she got them. Where she got them. Who sold them to her. Did she steal them? She didn't know. She couldn't remember.

A week later and there were two more added to the collection to replace the three she had thrown out. The episodes, as she had taken to dubbing them, were growing in frequency.

After the first instance in the locker room, Erica went another handful of days without hearing the voice. Without an episode. It was nearly a week before she found herself staring back at her reflection with a blank look on her face. Then it was four days. Three. Two.

She couldn't sleep. Erica knew it was probably mere hours until she fell again and this time she was going to be ready. She wasn't going to let it happen. She started this habit to give herself the control her seizures had taken from her and she wasn't about to lose it again to some voice in her head.

She wasn't.

She couldn't.

::

"Erica?" Stiles rubbed at his eyes groggily, standing at the door in a pair of sweats and t-shirt. He glanced back at the TV, squinting to see the time, "it's two in the morning, what's wrong?"

"Can I come in?" Erica's eyes weren't keeping focus on Stiles, instead jumping around at all of the things surrounding them.

"Yeah, sure, no problem." Stiles stepped back, closing the door behind Erica. "What's wrong?"

Erica shrugged off her jacket, tossing it on the couch before turning around to face Stiles, her arms crossed over her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes, "I can't do it."

"Do what?" Stiles was completely awake after that, stepping forward. "What's going on, Erica?"

Still unable to meet his eyes, Erica focused on the wall behind Stiles' head. "I can't—"

She shook her head. Stiles grabbed hold of her arms, moving to bring them down to wrap her in a hug when he looked down at her forearms in alarm. "Erica?"

Keeping one hand on her elbow, Stiles leaned over to flick a lamp on, illuminating the previously dark room. "_Erica_," he breathed out, eyes wide with concerned as he turned her arm over, "what happened? Who did this to you?"

Erica, with more tears welling up than before, snatched her arm back, crossing them once more. "Nobody, nobody did it."

"That's a load of crap, Erica, what's going on?"

She shook her head before moving to pick up her jacket, "I shouldn't have come here, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I woke you, just, forget I even came here, okay? Forget about it."

"No," Stiles backed up, blocking the door, "I'm not letting you leave, not until you tell me what happened."

"Stiles?" Erica looked up, the sound of Derek's voice startling her. "Erica?" He flicked the hall light on as he made his way down the stairs. "What's going on?"

Stiles was quiet, looking at Erica pointedly, "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"Erica?" Derek walked over to his beta, catching her gaze, flashing his eyes, "Tell me what's going on."

Choking back on a sob, Erica shook her head, folding her jacket over her forearm. "I already told Stiles, it was dumb, just let me leave."

Derek frowned, "You can't just show up here in the middle of the night and then pretend nothings going on."

"Yeah?" Erica asked, a bitter twist to her voice, "Then what are you doing here, huh? Why are you here, in the middle of the night?"

She looked back between Stiles and Derek, waiting for a response. "Exactly what I thought. Just let me go, okay?"

"Not okay." Stiles glared at her, "Not after I saw that, no way in hell are you leaving this house."

"Stiles," her voice was small, a near whimper.

"What did you see?" Derek asked in confusion, looking from Stiles and then back to Erica. "What did he see?" When nobody said anything he growled in frustration, "God damnit, Erica, _tell me_."

Looking away from the two, Erica took a seat at the couch, exhaling. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I swear."

Stiles looked worriedly at Derek before sitting beside her, "You have to give us more than that, Erica."

Derek looked at the two in confusion before crouching down in front of Erica, taking a hold of her hands as she clasped them in a near death grip, "C'mon, you're scaring us." He paused, "You're scaring _me_."

Erica looked up at that, eyes locking with her Alpha's which only managed to bring her tears back full force. She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Derek prompted gently.

"I'm a horrible beta," Erica whispered, shaking her head when Stiles was a second away from interjecting, "I am, and I am so, so sorry. You shouldn't have bit me, you really, really, shouldn't have. I'm nothing, okay? Don't you get that?"

"Erica," Derek moved closer, his hold on her hand moving to her knees, "look at me." She lifted her head. That was the least she could do, right? Face her Alpha head on even if she was a disappointment. "You are one of the smartest decisions I've made." She joked on a bitter laugh, "I'm serious, look at me." Derek paused, "You are strong, you are passionate, and you are a hell of a fighter. You have some of the best control I've seen—"

Erica didn't even try to stop herself from laughing. She knew how it made her look—hysterical, psychotic, terribly obtuse—and wasn't that just the point of it all? She shook her head, "You have no idea, Derek. No idea."

"Then tell me." He glanced at Stiles before looking down at the jacket Erica still had folded over her arms. Erica leaned back, moving a hand to wipe at her eyes just as Stiles pulled her coat off of her lap and behind his back. With the added light from the hallway, what Stiles had merely gotten a glimpse of before was suddenly illuminated with certainty.

"Stiles," She growled out, whipping around to glare at the boy beside her.

"Tell us what happened," Stiles prompted her once more while Derek looked over her forearms, turning each arm over to get a full look at what happened. At what she had done to herself.

"Who did this" Derek asked suddenly, looking up at Erica, eyes narrowed, his anger almost palpable. Erica mumbled in response. "Who?"

"Me," she whispered the words, looking away from the two, folding in on herself in the process. "I did it, okay?" She whipped her head around to look at them after a moment when neither of them had made a sound. "I did it, do you get that? Do you get why I'm horrible? Does it all make sense now?"

Still, neither boy made move or noise, the silence grating on Erica's nerves, "Forget it, I told you to just forget it, can I go now?"

"No." Both Stiles and Derek spoke simultaneously.

"That's not the whole story, I know it's not," Stiles added.

"Do you trust me, Erica?" Derek asked.

"With my life," she spoke bitterly. Not like her life was worth much nowadays, was it?

"Then explain what happened."

"What do you want me to say?" Erica asked bitterly.

"The truth, Erica," Derek prompted yet again, "I want to hear the truth." He ran his fingers over her forearm, tracing the blisters carefully, running over older, smaller burns on her palms before moving onto the larger, newer, abrasions along the inside of her wrists and forearm. She shivered at the touch.

"I don't know," She shrugged, "I don't know how it began."

"Think," Derek spoke, eyes transfixed on her arms. "Do they hurt?" He asked when she didn't reply right away.

Erica made a noncommittal noise, "I guess, kind of. Just a dull ache."

Derek nodded, "And healing?"

"Suppressed it."

Derek glanced up at her, "For how long?"

Erica closed her eyes, squeezing them shut tight, "I _don't know_."

Derek nodded, expression blank. Stiles looked between the two, questions racing but not voicing them. "Can you do anything?" He asked, finally.

"Maybe." Derek looked at Erica until she reopened her eyes, "Have you tried anything? To kick start the process?"

"Doesn't it look like I did?" Erica rolled her eyes, frowning as she looked down at her arms. "It's not working." She took a deep breath, fighting to keep herself from crying. Despite this, her voice broke as she spoke, "I'm broken, Derek."

"No you're not." Derek insisted. "You're here, you sought help. You're a fighter, Erica."

"If I'm so strong why didn't I get help sooner?" She challenged.

"I don't know, Erica, but you did. You eventually did."

"I'll be right back," Stiles voice was quiet. When both wolves looked over at him, he moved to get up, "I have some burn cream upstairs, just give me a second." It didn't take long for him to return, moving to rub some of the ointment on the marks.

"Thank you," Erica spoke quietly.

"You gonna tell us everything that happened?" Derek asked after a moment.

"Do I have to?" Erica smiled weakly.

"Yes." Derek's voice was firm.

"I'm," she paused, taking a breath, "I'm hearing voices." At the surprise and concern on both Stiles and Derek's faces, she added, "Just one. I'm hearing one voice."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," Erica rubbed at the side of her head, scratching at her scalp while she tried to remember. "After my seizure in the library? I think? Around that time. Maybe before. I don't know."

"When you went off your meds?" Stiles asked, looking over at Erica.

"I think so. Maybe." Erica shrugged, "What does that matter?"

"Erica," Stiles' voice was insistent, filled with new fervor, "what are some withdrawal symptoms people experience?"

Erica looked at him in confusion but replied nevertheless, "The usual headaches, insomnia, seizures, suicidal ideation, hallucination, tremors—"

"Repeat that last one for me?"

"Tremors?"

"Before that."

"Hallucinations?" Erica frowned.

"Precisely."

"Erica? Stiles? Anyone care to explain?" Derek asked, growing agitated.

"Hallucinations can be seeing or hearing something that isn't there. It's a reported withdrawal symptom." Stiles explained, looking at Erica for confirmation. She nodded.

"And the burns?" Derek prompted.

Stiles frowned, "That I don't know anything about."

"It's something that I used to do," Erica answered, looking down at the floor, "before the bite and everything, but I hadn't done it in years. I threw out my lighter the first time it happened, but I kept finding new ones in my room. I don't even know how any of them got there, but the more I threw them out, the more I found."

"And now?" Derek asked. "When was the last time?"

Erica glanced at the clock on the TV, "A couple hours ago? I tried staying up, because I knew it was going to be happening again soon, but I don't know, every time it happens, it's like I'm not there. I don't know how to explain it," Erica frowned, biting down on her tongue. She was not going to cry. She _wasn't_.

"Have you been able to shift?"

Erica rolled her eyes, "Yeah, that's not a problem."

"You sure?" Stiles asked, causing both Erica and Derek to look at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Derek prompted.

"Remember when I stopped you in the hallway a couple weeks ago?" Stiles asked Erica, "Was that after this thing happened?"

Erica paused, "Actually, yeah, the first one."

"What happened?"

Stiles looked at Derek when he answered, "She flashed her eyes at me, which, okay, normal, but for any of the other betas. Not her," he looked at Erica with a smile, "You have the best control, you know."

Erica scoffed, "Yeah, okay,"

"He's right," Derek added, smiling at Erica, "Don't tell the others, but I think you're my favorite beta."

Erica laughed at that but it brought a grin to her face, "If you say so."

Derek rolled his eyes before looking over at Stiles, "This is why I don't praise them."

"Doesn't mean you should stop!" Stiles retorted. It was clear to Erica they had, had this argument before, watching as they bickered back and forth. Stiles looked at her just then, eyes narrowing, "What's with that grin?"

"Nothing," She shrugged, "You two just argue like an old married couple."

"That's not my fault." Stiles exclaimed, pointing at Derek, "If someone would just accept that I am always right then we wouldn't be having these problems."

"But you're not always right," Erica said.

"Be quiet, you! My house, my rules." Stiles nodded firmly, as if that meant the conversation was over.

"Back to you," Derek ignored Stiles' outburst, looking at Erica, "I'll see what I can find on healing. Maybe ask Deaton something," he looked over at Stiles at that.

"You want me to ask him?"

"Please, if you could."

"I think I've heard you say _please_ more in the last hour than in the last six months, Derek," Erica commented, smiling at him.

His eyes narrowed, "Don't get used to it."

Stiles nudged Erica's shoulder with his own, "He's a total softy when nobody else is around, you have no idea."

She raised an eyebrow, "Really? Like what?"

"Well, this one time—"

"Stiles!" Derek shoved at Stiles' knee. He was no longer crouching, have shifted his weight to his ankles where he kneeled in front of Erica.

"What? Can I at least tell her about the time you—"

"No." Derek's voice left no room for argument.

"Fine, but only because I like you." Stiles grumbled with a roll of his eyes. Erica watched Derek after that, his face softening.

"You have no idea how glad I am that I made you text him," Erica pushed against Stiles' shoulder with her own.

"Yeah, I owe you for that, don't I?"

"Definitely."

"Pie?"

"I thought you would never ask." Both Erica and Stiles stood up at that, Erica grabbing her jacket while Stiles threw on a pair of sneakers by the door. Derek coughed as he stood, raising an eyebrow at the two of them expectantly.

"Don't you two have school in a couple of hours?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Nothing matters when there's pie involved." Derek continued to stare, "Fine, what, do you want to come with or something?"

"Or something." Derek muttered, taking the stairs two at a time to grab his own jacket and wallet, toeing on his shoes.

"Nice pants, by the way." Erica commented, glancing down at what Derek was wearing. Confused, he looked down at himself only to frown.

"These aren't mine."

"I know." Erica grinned.

"I should go change," He mumbled, frown still in place.

"Pie judges no one, let's go!" Stiles tugged at both of their wrists, "You're paying, by the way."

"Says who?" Derek questioned.

"Me."

Erica laughed at the two's antics, getting into the back of the Camaro while they stood squabbling outside. She leaned back in the plush seat, staring up at the roof of the car. She tugged at her coat sleeves, curling her hands into fists. Her skin was disgusting looking and it was all her fault, but for the first time in weeks, she didn't feel too terrible about it. It was like a weight had lifted off of her chest, similar to that first time she and Stiles had met up to talk. She was still learning these things, this whole, sharing with people who care about you, thing, but she was getting there.

She knew the voice in her head might not be gone for good, but now she knew why it was there. She knew it was a chain of foolish decisions on her part that led her to this place, but she had her Alpha by her side to help her get through whatever this was. Erica wasn't ignorant; she knew there were going to be questions. Why she went to Stiles and not him just then, how much she was keeping to herself, not to mention old habits, but she had time for all of that.

Right now, it was pie time.

::

**endnote: **Erica addresses past habits involving burning, including a relapse. She struggles with psychosis, a hallucinated voice she hears.


End file.
